


Too Easy

by HardTack (volatileSoloist)



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Other, Past Sexual Abuse, Sex Tapes, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 13:55:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatileSoloist/pseuds/HardTack
Summary: Bloodhound finally has Elliott in their grasp, and they can't wait to enjoy him.





	Too Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuzzybatbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzybatbutts/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Prey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664509) by [fuzzybatbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzybatbutts/pseuds/fuzzybatbutts). 

> Written for my pal [fuzzybatbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzybatbutts/pseuds/fuzzybatbutts), whose series "[Lessons To Be Learned](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330520)" I have vastly enjoyed reading and beta-ing. I enjoy our talks about the future of this story and the discussions of the ways we can ruin Elliott's life, and it was a pleasure writing this for you!
> 
> This is from Hound's perspective, takes place during the work "[Prey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664509)" after Elliott blacks out and before he wakes up. I would highly recommend checking out the rest of the story before reading this one, and please remember to check the tags! This is not a happy story.

Bloodhound loved the thrill of the hunt. But in order to enjoy it properly, it often required quite a lot of patience and planning.

So when they were able to watch an opportunity set _itself_ up, it only added to their enjoyment.

After all, Elliott’s movements were so easy to predict that it was almost laughable. Returning to the same bar, night after night, and lowering his defenses with copious amounts of drink had become routine for him. He would stumble out of the bar when the streets were empty, bleary-eyed and weak—_although he was never much of a fighter at the best of times_, Bloodhound mused.

They had never quite met another person like him; the others had been equally attractive, of course, but none of them had _begged_ Bloodhound to keep going, right at their very first encounter. It was exciting, in a way. It was a sign that a new hunt awaited them.

And so they hunted. It had been too easy to track Elliott down to the bar he worked at, and even easier to accost him as he walked home. That night in the alleyway had been a test, in a way—Bloodhound needed to see if he was just as _malleable_ when put under pressure.

And he had been, at the time. But when Bloodhound realized that their lessons hadn’t stuck, during their second encounter in Kings Canyon, well... they knew it was time to move on to more drastic measures. They weren’t going to give up the hunt this far along the trail.

The bartender had been an easy pawn to persuade; Bloodhound had more money than they could possibly spend, and they knew it was an efficient way to buy loyalty. All they needed to do was give him the right pill to slip into Elliott’s drink, and then it was time to sit and wait.

It was almost pitiful how lowered Elliott’s defenses were. He didn’t even notice Bloodhound tucked into a shadowy corner of the bar, not needing much more than a hoodie, a cheap medical facemask, and a pair of dark glasses to keep out of his notice. They watched as he drank down their little gift without hesitation, smiling to themself as they leaned back in their booth.

The drug they chose was one that would quickly be absorbed into his bloodstream, and indeed, it wasn’t long before Elliott shakily stood up from his stool and hobbled out the doors. Bloodhound was tempted to follow immediately, but they paced themself. They knew they would only needed to wait a few minutes before he passed out, anyway. He wouldn’t get far.

Indeed, when they left the bar, it was easy to track Elliott’s path into the nearby alleyway, where they found him sprawled out on the ground, dead to the world. Bloodhound felt their pulse quicken at the sight, but they reminded themself to be patient. They hoisted Elliott into their arms with ease, and quickly carried him out of the alleyway to a side street where they had a vehicle waiting. They tucked him into the boot of the car, taking only a few moments to admire his unconscious form before closing the trunk. They would have all the time in the world to do so later.

——

Bloodhound smiled, quite satisfied, as they finished tying the final knot that bound Elliott’s arms to the headboard of the guest bed in their cabin—a nice, secure location far from the dirty, noisy city Elliott had called home. _But now_, they supposed, _it won’t be long before Elliott grows to accept _this_ place as his home_. He wouldn’t be leaving for quite a while, after all.

With that task done, Bloodhound stepped back to look over their prize. They’d stripped Elliott down to his underwear, leaving his toned body exposed for them to admire. They slowly reached out a hand, and gently touched the scar of the bullet wound in his side. They could remember that day so clearly—their frustration at Elliott’s disobedience, the thrill of destroying their opponents, and the enjoyment they got in making sure Elliott wouldn’t disobey them again. The taste of his blood on their tongue.

At that memory, they felt the warmth of arousal slowly brewing in their gut, and for once, they took the time to indulge it. There was a time and a place for everything, and now seemed like a perfect opportunity, with Elliott so beautifully stretched out beneath them. Pliant, unresisting, perfect.

Bloodhound traced their fingers up over his chest until they reached his neck, wrapping their hand around it but not squeezing. They just took a moment to enjoy the sensation, and then slipped their hand around the back to find... _ah, yes._ They grinned as they felt the raised tissue there, the indisputable claiming mark they gave him the first day they met.

From there, they moved their hand up to brush over his lips. _That_ was one of their favorite things about Elliott. At the moment, they were a bit chapped, but Bloodhound remembered the night in the alley, when they had been soft and plush.

They remembered the wet warmth of his mouth, slick with his own blood.

They remembered, and they felt the _desire_ burning inside them.

Bloodhound didn’t need Elliott to be awake for them to properly enjoy his body. They only regretted that he would never know what they were about to do to him.

_And then again..._ Struck with an idea, Bloodhound left the room for a brief moment, moving swiftly through the hall to reach their bedroom, where they pulled a video camera and its tripod out of their closet. Then it was back to the guest room, where they set the tripod on the floor, raised it to the perfect height, and mounted the camera. Their hands shook slightly from excitement as they turned it on, and made sure the shot was good. This needed to be perfect.

Finally, they switched the camera to its ‘record’ mode and moved forward, crawling onto the bed to sit on Elliott’s chest. They took a moment to palm themself through their pants—their length already pressing tightly against the confines of the fabric—before pushing them down completely. Their cock sprung free, and they gave it a quick stroke, thumbing the tip to wick away an early bead of precome. They caressed Elliott’s jaw once before grasping it firmly and forcing it open. They moved ever so slightly closer, and used their free hand to lift his head slightly off the bed before thrusting into the cusp of his mouth.

Elliott twitched slightly beneath them, but Bloodhound almost didn’t notice, as lost as they were in the slick feeling of the inside of his mouth. They raised his head a little higher, and moaned as their cock slid deeper into his throat. It was relaxed and open, but as they gave an experimental thrust, they pushed in far enough for Elliott’s gag reflex to trigger, and they gave out a shivery sigh as his throat spasmed around their length.

As it attempted in vain to force out the intrusion, Bloodhound scooted forward a little more, to the point where they were practically sitting on his face, and pumped their hips shallowly in and out, never completely withdrawing before pushing in deep. Their eyes rolled back as they felt his throat tightening around their cock repeatedly, and they stroked his now-flushed cheek with their free hand as they rocked back and forth.

Bloodhound almost laughed the first time Elliott’s body jerked beneath them. They barely even cared about his body’s useless attempts to get air—it didn’t seem to matter when they were pressed fully inside him, rutting and grinding against his face to chase their bliss. It was only when he bucked so violently that they almost fell off him to the side, that they briefly pulled out to let Elliott get a hint of air.

They took a moment to stroke their cock again, slick and wet with Elliott’s saliva, teasing the tip slightly before shifting forward to slip inside him again. This time, they propped up on their knees so that they could properly pound into his mouth, setting up a punishing rhythm as they moved.

Each thrust was perfect, sinking in deep enough for Elliott’s throat to convulse around their length as they pushed in, and then brushing against his tongue as they pulled out. They loved feeling him struggle beneath them, even when he was so deep in unconsciousness that such efforts were trivial. His body always responded to them in amazing ways, and they always found fresh enjoyment in it.

And by the gods, did they plan on _enjoying_ him. As they looked down at his reddening face, their mind raced with all the plans they had in store for him. Would Elliott be obedient right from the start and give them the satisfaction of having a perfect toy to fuck, or would he rebel and give them the pleasure of punishing him? Oh, they had so _many_ ideas for how they could hurt him. His body yielded so perfectly to their blows, and their teeth, and their knife.

The heat coiling in Bloodhound’s gut was almost too much, and they tilted their head back to pant as they sunk inside his mouth again, this time, holding themself there and letting Elliott choke around their cock. Oh, the _sounds_ he made—he always sounded so pretty for them, when he wasn’t talking and was just simply being a nice body for them to fuck. His moans were so pleasant to the ear, and the sound of him gagging around their dick was just as erotic.

Bloodhound ground hard against his face, pushing it onto their cock as far as it could go until they bottomed out, and as Elliott let out the weakest, most pathetic little gurgle, they let go completely, and moaned long and loud as they finished into his mouth, cum shooting into the back of his throat. They thrusted a few more times, extending their orgasm as much as they could, floating high on a cloud of bliss as they rode it out.

They only came back to themself once Elliott’s body began to move under them again, struggling desperately for air. Even so, they remained in place for a little longer, basking in the afterglow. They finally pulled out when his body slowly began to still, and the threat of him actually dying became slightly more real, leaving a string of cum against his chin. Elliott continued to choke and gurgle for a minute until Bloodhound pressed their hand against his throat, kneading it and stimulating him to swallow and clear his airway.

They closed their eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh of utter pleasure before leaning down and wiping up the stray bit of their release from his mouth, cleaning it off on his tongue. They tucked themself back into their pants, and then turned to the camera and gave it a devilish grin. They could just imagine the look on Elliott’s face when it came time to show him this clip, and they could hardly wait.

They finally climbed off of Elliott and let his head flop to the mattress, before striding over to the camera and switching it off. They packed up the tripod and camera before moving it back to their room. They would check the footage later; for now, they walked back to Elliott’s room and stood in front of the bed.

After all, the _real_ fun would begin when he woke up, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.


End file.
